


Miss You

by callay



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan. “By god, Woodhull, you’ll be the death of me,” he whispers.</p><p>(When they're reunited in episode 1, Ben and Abe can't resist stealing a moment together, despite the threat of discovery.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miss You

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in episode 1, after Abe is captured and tortured and Ben comes save him. Response to [this kink meme prompt](http://turn-kink.livejournal.com/799.html?thread=1311#t1311)!

“Your name came through on a dispatch, Mr. Woodhull.”

Abe, struggling for breath under the sopping bag, feels the words like a ray of hope. Because he recognizes that voice.

“Ben?” he gasps. “Tallmadge? Is that you?”

He hears someone walk closer. A hand yanks the bag off his head.

Reeling, Abe looks up. It’s definitely Ben Tallmadge, eyebrows drawn together but with a soft smile on his face. He offers Abe a hand, which Abe clutches and struggles to stand up.

“It is you,” gasps Abe, pulling Ben close. “Thank god.”

He embraces Ben tightly, head spinning. It still feels like he can’t quite breathe, and part of him still doesn’t understand why this is happening. But Ben is solid against him, and he knows that Ben can make things right, because that’s what he always does.

“Thank god,” Abe repeats, pressing his face against Ben’s neck. Ben is warm and feels good against Abe’s clammy skin.

Ben exhales next to his ear and gives him a brief, tight hug.

“Are you all right?” Ben asks quietly.

Abe huffs out a little laugh. “I don’t know.”

Ben pulls back just enough to take Abe’s face in both hands and examine him closely.

Under his touch, his gaze, Abe already feels better. He knows he shouldn’t trust Ben so closely – they haven’t seen each other in years, and Abe doesn’t know exactly what Ben’s doing here. But his heart doesn’t listen.

Seeing Ben here so close, Abe feels like it was yesterday that they were boys, and Ben always knew just how to get them out of trouble. He feels like it was last night that they were older than boys but not quite men, and Ben always knew just how to touch him.

Abe swallows. He shouldn’t be thinking of their old dalliances, not now. But his heart’s already pounding, breath coming fast, and it’s the work of a moment for his body to realign to Ben’s like a nail to a magnet. His eyes stray from Ben’s eyes down to his mouth.

Ben must have noticed, because he tenses. “Abe,” he hisses.

“I missed you,” says Abe. The words sound weak and silly to his ears, both overly sentimental and not strong enough to capture the shock of relief he felt seeing Ben.

“I know, I missed you too,” says Ben softly. His hand shifts on Abe’s head, not moving him closer or farther away, just stroking his cheek with a thumb.

Hands fisting in the back of Ben’s coat, Abe leans in.

Ben pulls away. “Abe, no. You’re just – you should rest. And I have to talk to you.”

Even in this dim light, Abe can see Ben’s ears are flushed red. He can hear Ben’s breaths coming faster, echoing his.

Looking into Ben’s eyes, Abe says, “Ben, I was just abducted, my property taken, beaten, and drowned. The least you could do is kiss me.” He lowers his voice to a whisper at the end, but puts as much force into it as he can.

Ben’s mouth twitches into a small smile. “On the mark as always, Woodhull.”

Ben glances out of the cell towards where the other men sit, playing cards. But Abe and Ben are in a dark corner where they can’t be seen from outside.

Ben looks back at Abe and takes a deep breath. “Just as a greeting between two old friends,” he says. But it comes out a rush at the end because all of a sudden they’re kissing.

There’s no pretense at a polite kiss between friends. Their mouths meet open and hungry. Ben’s lips are soft against Abe’s, but his tongue is hot, pressing slick into Abe’s mouth.

It’s even better than Abe remembered.

Ben cradles Abe’s face gently, but his kiss is forceful, and Abe finds himself backed up into the cold wall. Ben’s body is warm and solid against his, and Abe presses in, presses up as close as he can.

It seems like they only kiss for a few heartbeats before Ben pulls away, panting. He opens his mouth, no doubt to say they should stop, that this isn’t the place or time.

But this might be the only time and place they get. So Abe looks directly into Ben’s eyes and reaches down a hand to rub between Ben's legs.

Ben shudders. “Abe, I don’t think –“

But Abe can feel the hardness under his hand and see the desire dark in Ben’s eyes. He feels both, echoed a hundredfold, under his own skin. And he won’t give up this one moment they have together, not for anything.

He kisses Ben, no technique, just blunt pressure, trying to press all of his love and need into Ben’s skin.

And Ben kisses back, coaxing him gently with his tongue, like he’s trying to spell a secret message into Abe’s mouth. _All right_ , he says. _I’m here_.

It’s been years since they’ve done this, but Abe’s body remembers perfectly how to align with Ben’s. His head remembers the angle to tilt so their mouths slide together just right. His thigh remembers how to slip between Ben’s and his hips remember how to roll, to rub himself against Ben. His hands remember the shape of Ben’s jaw, his ears, they remember how to curl around the back of Ben’s head.

Ben’s hair is long now, and the braid is new. Abe runs his hand over it, then gives it an experimental pull.

Ben breaks the kiss with a gasp, half pain and half something else. “Don’t,” he breathes.

Abe only pulls harder, tilting Ben’s head back and leaning up to kiss hungrily at his neck. His mouth remembers the right spot, just there under Ben’s jaw, and he sucks at it.

“Ah,” gasps Ben aloud, hips stuttering against Abe. His voice seems overly loud in their dark, secret corner. Ben bites his lips and whispers, “Abe, stop.”

There’s an edge to his voice that makes Abe obey. He lets go of Ben’s braid and leans back to look at him.

“We can’t – we don’t have _time_ ,” hisses Ben breathlessly, glancing out of the cell. He runs a hand over his hair, straightens the ribbon on his braid. “And I have to go back out there, so you can’t mess anything up.”

But Abe wants to mess Ben up. He wants to tear off Ben’s uniform and pull out his braid and kiss marks into his skin. 

He can tell from the desperate look in Ben’s eyes and the way his hands fist in Abe’s shirt that Ben wants that too. He wants them to be like they were, lying together naked and laughing, with nothing between them.

There’s plenty between them now, time and war and secrets.

Ben starts to step away from Abe, putting on a serious face. “I have to talk to you anyway,” he says. There’s only the slightest of tremors in his voice.

“No,” says Abe, holding on to Ben’s shoulders. His heart is pounding and his blood is burning with need and he doesn’t want to talk, he wants to feel.

He reaches down for the waist of Ben’s breeches, fumbles them open.

Ben lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan. “By god, Woodhull, you’ll be the death of me,” he whispers.

He presses in close, pushing Abe back against the wall, and works open Abe’s breeches. The brush of Ben’s knuckles against his stomach are enough to make Abe shiver.

Then they’re touching each other. The weight of Ben’s cock is familiar in Abe’s hand. Ben’s fingers sliding up Abe’s cock feel familiar too, but that doesn’t make it any less breath-stoppingly amazing. They move together, in sync, hands and wrists shifting and hips canting up.

They try to be quiet. But the air still seems filled with noise, shuddering breaths and the occasional bitten-off word or groan.

This is new, this urgency. Ben’s hand is moving the way Abe likes, a twist on the way up and then a thumb over the head, but there’s an edge to it, his movements fast and rough. Abe likes it, likes the thrill of danger in the situation.

His body feels coiled tight and he’s getting close. For a second he wants to come all over Ben, fantasizes about staining Ben’s nice blue coat. Just thinking it is almost too much, because the image is incredibly arousing, and Ben’s hand isn’t letting up.

But he can’t, he can’t mess Ben up.

Desperately he grabs Ben’s wrist and pulls his hand away, gasping, “Stop, I can’t – The mess –“

Ben’s eyes are dark and wild. His hips keep stuttering into the air between them even though Abe’s hand has moved. It looks like it takes effort for him to think clearly.

“All right,” he says, voice still low, “all right, I’ll just – here.” And he kneels down in front of Abe.

Abe has to bite down on his hand to stop from crying out as Ben takes him into his mouth.

It’s over as soon as it begins. As soon as the wet heat of Ben’s mouth closes on him, Abe is coming, hard, fisting his hands to stop from grabbing Ben’s hair. Ben swallows down every drop.

Abe can’t do anything but lean back against the wall, lightheaded.

Ben stands up, breathless, and kisses Abe hard. Abe can taste himself on Ben’s tongue, something else familiar from years ago. He wants more, wants to taste Ben. Which is convenient because Ben’s cock is currently hard and rocking against Abe’s hip.

Abe kneels. Without preamble, he sucks Ben’s cock into his mouth. Ben shudders at the touch and instantly takes up a halting rhythm, pushing himself into Abe’s mouth. He tangles his fingers in the wet strands of Abe’s hair and holds his head still. Abe obliges. It’s easy to sit still, eyes closed, and listen to Ben’s breathing, rough, each exhale tinged with a groan that Ben doesn’t let out, and smell the familiar smell of Ben’s skin, and feel Ben’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth.

It only takes a moment until Ben is gripping Abe’s hair hard enough to hurt and thrusting hard and erratic. Abe rides it out, swallowing and swallowing until Ben’s movements slow to a stop.

Ben tugs at Abe’s shirt, and he stands up. They fall back against the wall, pressed together. For just a moment, Abe closes his eyes and lets himself bask in the feeling of being with Ben.

Ben gently tries to smooth Abe’s hair back, with little success. “Abe, that was…“ He hesitates, then finishes with a smile, “… foolish.”

Abe smiles back at him, but says quietly, “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too,” says Ben.

He doesn’t say that it’s inevitable, that they both have paths to walk in life, but their paths are separate, which is what he said last time. But Abe can tell he’s thinking it.

Ben kisses Abe once more, brief but forcefully.

Then he steps away, fixes his breeches, and straightens his coat. When he turns back, his brows are drawn together, and he says, “Abe, we need to know who your contact was.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to include Ben getting his hair pulled, and I blame [days4daisy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/) for that!


End file.
